Bride behind the mask novel (Marguerite) novel Chapter 485

Chapter 485 

Marguerite scanned the room and, to her relief, didn’t spot Frederick anywhere. She exhaled quietly and once again shook off Maurice’s grasp, making a 

beeline for the staircase. 

She had to get out of this ridiculous wedding gown before Frederick returned. If someone else fancied it, they’re welcome to it! She was certainly not going to wear it! 

But as fate would have it, just as she turned around, there he was-Frederick, slipping off his shoes at the entrance. And his gaze, so perfectly timed, settled on her, clad in that damned dress. 

Marguerite wanted to run, but inexplicably, her legs felt like they were filled with lead, refusing to budge. 

In the end, it was Maurice who stepped forward, pulling her back to stand before Lisette. His face was stone as he announced, “Mom, this isn’t up for discussion. Whether you approve or not, I’m marrying Marguerite in a month.” 

Marguerite shrugged off the hand on her shoulder, acutely aware of Frederick’s eyes on her, feeling like she was being pierced by thorns. 

Just her luck! The very thing she didn’t want Frederick to lay his eyes on was now fully exposed to him.. 

Lisette, meanwhile, set aside her tea and leisurely cleaned her hands with a napkin, “If you want to marry her, you ought to ask if she agrees.” 

Not waiting for Maurice to ask, Marguerite blurted out impatiently, “I do not!” 

At that moment, the ever-silent Powell Winston finally lost his temper. Angry, he started thumping his cane on the floor, “Marguerite, if not Maurice, then whom do you wish to marry?” 

Marguerite’s gaze flicked to Frederick involuntarily, catching him with his arms crossed in a “let’s see how you’re going to answer this one” stance. 

Marguerite stiffened her neck, “Whom I wish to marry is no mystery to Maurice. If you want me to spell it out, you might want to ask your son if he’s ready for the truth.” 

“Insolent!” Mr. Powell bellowed, “Marguerite, you’re out of line! I’ve been tolerating you for far too long! If it weren’t for Teresa’s sake, I’d have kicked you out long ago! Who do you think you are?” 

At the mention of Teresa, Marguerite couldn’t hold back, “I can leave, but Teresa comes with me.” 

“Over my dead body!” Mr. Powell’s voice boomed, nearly leaping from his wheelchair, cane raised as if ready to strike her. 

His posture was intimidating, but Marguerite wasn’t afraid. 

“Then I have no choice but to stay. Where Teresa is, I am. Your son might do without a wife, but my daughter won’t be without her mother.”” 

In the blink of an eye, it seemed every hair on Mr. Powell’s head stood on end. 

He was livid, shaking with rage, his cane thumping more fiercely against the ground. 

“Marguerite! I dare you to say that again!” 

Jocelyn hurried over to calm Mr. Powell, “Enough, calm yourself, she’s just a kid, don’t take it to heart! Don’t let her get to you!” 

“She’s twenty-five, she’s not a child anymore! Oh, Jocelyn, Marguerite has been spoiled by you and Frederick! She’s gotten way too cheeky!” 

“Alright, alright, I’ll have a word with her later.” 

Jocelyn placated him, then turned quickly to Marguerite, flashing her a look and feigned anger, “What are you still standing there for? Go upstairs and think about what you’ve done!” 

Not wanting to put Jocelyn in a tough spot and, yet again catching Frederick’s eye, Marguerite hastily gathered her dress and dashed upstairs.